|
- | ||||
from Trife Diesel - Put It On The Line (2005)
(feat. Trife Da God & Tommy Whispers)
[Intro: Trife Da Good] Mmm-hmm... yo we going in, nigga [Chorus 2X: Trife Da God] It's game time, gear the lacing of your kicks When I bang mine, ain't no escaping out this bitch And your chain's mine, kidnap the bracelet off your wrist Heard it through the grapevine, that you was hating on the click [Trife Da God] I'm not Chris Tuck', but I'll tuck them ratchets When I was young, I used to beat off, and fuck the mattress And I promise you, step out of line, see what that llama do Demolish you, rip through your chest, hit your abdominal My hammer hold twelve like a dozen of eggs And your man'll get bodied over something he said I'm not a blood, but I rock nothing but red He got his button on, I heard son fuck with the feds Why niggaz wanna fuck with my bread, like I ain't starving When I reign, I leave niggaz in Payne, but I ain't Martin If I ain't gone, I'm gonna move the weight by the carton On the plate carving, find me out of sight like a martian And I'm bobbing and weaving, dodging the precint Hit I-95, blowing cigars on the Decon Even when I'm fucked up, you know the God'll be eating It's all good, my hood is like the Garden of Eden [Chorus 2X] [Tommy Whispers] We make hits, classical shit, spit acid Turn bodies into ashes, T.M.F., we the masters Father to your style, so you can't be called a bastard Held fast in close casket, on the verge of collapsion Demolition derby, car crashing, heart smashed in Brutaly, I beast on beats, Broadstreet, Staten Usually I creep black heat, in dusty clothes Then drift from rusty 'fro's Communicate; Sprint to Sprint, somebody knows Phonetap, info'll get leaked like cognac Seepin' through plastic cups, no caps on the bottle Sold crack cuz I got to, feed my seed is my motto Believe I'm leave the hood, I hit the lotto But wherever I go, you know the hood gon' follow With them hollows and a tech, spray Windex Glassed on niggaz get chin check Theodore Unit, nigga, we out for them ten checks [Chorus 2X] [Trife Da God] I'm in the kitchen with them pots and pans And when them guns start to fire Ain't no telling where them shots gon' land Niggaz smile up in your face, but they not your man So it's obvious they not gon' stand I'm on the block, every day, moving yay', try'nna knock off grams If a nigga steal from me, I'm gonna chop off hands, so don't Get it confused, niggaz, give up them tools Cuz when we walk through the spot, y'all get up and move I'm a nigga that stay bending the rules Take a real good luck at a crook, and remember this dude Now keep that talk to a minimum, cuz niggaz be quick to peel off When that shit jump off like Lil' Kim and 'em Pumped off adrenaline, got his man drillin' him Feelin' him, gasin' him with all types of words I'm like the rain forest, I got all types of birds But they don't get the same treatment, that my wife deserve [Chorus 2X] [Outro: Tommy Whispers (Trife Da God] Yeah, nigga, Tommy Whispers, Trife Diesel Uh huh, flip a mill, Kryme Life (Theodore, nigga) Word up, T.M.F., kid, smashin' all microphones (Stapleton) 10304 niggaz |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Trife Diesel - Put It On The Line (2005)
(feat. Trife Da God & Tommy Whispers)
[Intro: Trife Da God] Uh-huh, let's go, knowhatimean Lot of these muthafuckin' rappers Talking alot of bullshit on these tracks Youknowhatimean, they dry snitching, throwing indirect Well this what we gon' 'do, man We gon' flush all these rats out the system Knowhatimean, set a few traps Get they ass up out of here, yeah, yo [Trife Da God] For all y'all niggaz with them Nextels, chirpin' and bleepin' On them walkie talkies frontin', like y'all work for the precint 10-4 niggaz claiming they hustlers, soon as they cuff ya In interrogation booths, y'all confessing like Usher Do the crime, do the time, that's the way I was taught And fuck surrending to jake, nigga, I'd rather get caught You got these niggaz on camera, frontin' hard with they team Wavin' they hammers, incriminating theyself on the screen Roleplaying, imitating some movie they seen That ain't gangsta, real gangsta niggaz generate CREAM And now you wonder why the FEDS come knock me, infiltrating the system Don't be suprised nigga, you let those cops in Plus the record labels is watching, you think they gonna sign you? You think they gonna put up that bread and get behind you Reality check, stupid, let me remind you All that try'nna push ya way through the door, deceased in 9-2 [Chorus 2X: Trife Da God] Yah-yo, yah-yo, this is that gangsta shit Go 'head and roll ya window down and crank that shit Whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo click My New York niggaz get money, and slam those bricks [Trife Da God] In the hood, I'm a Legend like John, I've never been harmed On the block shooting dice, holding bread in my palm Gatten Island niggaz, yeah we got a fetish for arms Berettas tucked in our leathers, strapped with terrorist bombs Shorties, running around with more Gunz than Corey Getting high off weed smoke, blowing your funds on forties You'll be amazed how these rappers try to run with stories This ain't a novel, muthafucka, this is guts and glory Pain and struggle, the game will crush you, it's a everyday hustle You want to eat, you better strain your muscles Hopeless martyrs, afraid when approached by mobsters With them grams, call me Sam the way I'm "coachin'" "carters" With starters, listen homey we can never be partners Don't get it twisted, handle business with my hands and revolvers The grown man, that'll touch up your wig, like beauty parlors Pop niggaz, like, how we pop bottles, you do the honors, nigga [Chorus 2X] [Tommy Whispers] Spot you twenty points, and you still can't win You can't compare Grey Go' to gin, you too thin Ya'll niggaz is hubcaps fuckin' with big rims If the shoe fit, then your foot in my timb Masked up, hoodies and gems, I couldn't defend Your title small, a deuce-deuce next to a rifle The hackle'll snipe you, disconnect and dis-mic you Disrespect your rivals, have you dancing like Michael Moonwalker, uh-huh, platoon bark, goons in the dark Only lights from the spark, boom-boom in the parks Vocals in fumes from my darts, lead the roofs on the part Fuck up your happy home, daddy's back with a chrome Snatchin' ya throne, you mimicking, you actually cloned Finish him, I'm crackin' ya bones, diminishing Real terror, purple men, backed off pistoling Like them papies uptown, them hammers is whistling [Chorus 2X] [Outro: Trife Da God] Uh, yeah, 718, criminal grind, Theodore Trife Da God, yo Slay, what up, my nigga? Tommy Whispers, Kryme Life, youknowhatimeansaying Money Come First, T.M.F. we getting money over here Gatten Island niggaz, knowhatimean Where the guns go off |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Trife Diesel - Put It On The Line (2005)
(feat. Trife Da God, Kryme Life & Tommy Whispers)
[Chorus 1.5X: Trife Da God] This world is full of shockers, and project soap operas Episodes of drama, never ending sagas [Trife Da God] You know Pudgie, who rock the old rugby, kinda chubby Timbs always muddy, and his wiz is kinda ugly Him and his man Dudley got killed in an accident Late last night, when they was driving down Castleton The whip was badly crashed, come on, you do the math They probably smoked a bag, no seatbelts, they flew through the dash The forecast was foggy, light drizzle, sky; cloudy Lost control at the wheel, a front pole wrapped they Audi It was televised, at the scene live, on Channel Seven Newsflash story, this just in, around eleven Yellow tape scenery, barricaded the block Patrol cars and EMS, all invaded the spot It was tragic, they swerved out of control to a wood traffic Hopped the curb, tired flatted, glass shattered Witnesses said they heard a big bang and loud screetches And Tamika said police found drugs in Pudgie speaker Plus son had an open case, for dope and base Jake rushed his moms lab, he got bagged in Ocean Lake [Chorus: Tommy Whispers] [Chorus: Trife Da God] [Kryme Life] Oh lord, two shots just went off on Broad I ran out the building, seen my man on the floor Children running frantic, with fear, all I saw Was a four door Explorer, made a uey, then pulled off Miss Gloria screaming, nobody seen him by the store Beanie and Jamal, freaking on the lawn Told me, if they get you, call Ruck with the rental My mental went rushing, who the fuck was buzzing Was it them niggaz that we stuck for them hundreds Or did that bitch that we ran a train on, tell her husband Moving fast, hoping that my man don't past Heart pumping, eyes closing, yo, he might not last EMS please hurry, nervous and worried He's only 19, he's too young to be buried Got a life ahead of him, Georgia Tech just accepted him Point guard, but at this point, God It was heaven and Allah opening gates for the star It was hard, I couldn't believe, he stopped breathing Stopped from achieving his dream, now he leaving Thugs grieve, aiyo, he never slinged a thing And died over drug beef, it's a ghetto soap opera Living on these bugged streets, streets, streets [Chorus: Tommy Whispers] [Chorus: Trife Da God] [Tommy Whispers] Now Barbara need to stop Always at the kitchen table, lighting up the rocks While her daughter sit and watch Cuz her bathroom out of order, gotta knock on Uncle Kevin's door But it's really scary, cuz he live way on the seventh floor And she was out on 2, the older brother still in school But she had to stay home cuz of the flu Only six, but she more advanced than other little kids Always wondering, what's going on, outside the crib So she stepped into the hall, pressed the elevator button Bumped into this kid, making a sale, it wasn't nothing So cool, little and frail, but she knew what he was pumping At the store, he would walk to mommy, and hand her something And she always gave her money, few minutes after they got back home She acting funny, attitude getting ugly So she took the ride up, five floors, knocked on the door quick Didn't even speak, she just headed for the toilet After she was done, he told her go to the store, the milk spoiled Plus we needed some bread and some tin foil Little girl heart was loyal, so she ran downstairs Knocked on the door, to get Barbara, but she could not hear Now she at the corner with nobody to cross her, red light changing And up come a speeding Explorer.. [Interlude: female] This is Juwana Brookman, reporting for WTMI Broadcasting live from Staten Island What started out as an ordinary day Ended in a catastrophic three part tragedy Police officials released information of a brutal car accident That lead to the death of two men in the Stapleton area Soon after, a minor was gunned down in front of his aparment building To add to the travesty, a young girl was a victim of a tragic hit and run Details of her condition, are still to be The warrants have issued a 50 thousand dollar arrest For any information leading to the arrest and conviction of the suspect If you have any information, we ask that you contact them at 1-800-BE-A-SNITCH, this is Juwana Brookman Signing off for WTMI News [Chorus: Tommy Whispers] |